


Dirty Little Secrets

by Renai_chan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack-ish, M/M, but a tiny bit of angst happened, getting together fic, loki's a little shit, mentions of BDSM, some crossdressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secrets don't stay secrets for long thanks to Loki's little prank.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Little Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LePeru (Nizah)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nizah/gifts).



> Just a little bit of crack based on this kinkmeme: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6021.html?thread=9187717#t9187717 
> 
> _Loki come back on Earth. He plays a joke on the Avengers, he uses his illusory magic and each Avengers gets a private secret of his/her materialized in some bodily forms. Each of them is going to get very embarassed by Loki's illusions. Crackiness and humor ensue._
> 
> _+++ Just a bonus, I'd like Tony's materialized wish being a lustful and seemingly-very-in-love-with-Tony Steve. The real Steve is going to be...what? Annoyed? Embarrassed? Flattered?_
> 
> _++++++ A Steve/Tony ending would be lovely, but it's bonus as well._
> 
> I wrote this in about three hours, and it's unbeta'd, so forgive the mistakes!

The thing about Loki was that after the whole Chitauri thing, he was an _honest to goodness_ reformed supervillain.

 

Nobody knew what kind of “punishment” had taken place after Thor had taken him back to Asgard, nor was the older brother willing to divulge to anyone—not even to Jane, it seemed—but nevertheless, such punishment _must_ have been effective because there was a significant and obvious change in the entire demeanor of the younger god. He no longer had the whole “everybody hates me, nobody loves me” emo vibe going on. He no longer associated with supervillains to take over the world—he no longer _wanted_ to take over the world. He sometimes helped the Avengers out a bit with their missions. He partook in meals. He watched movies on Thursday movie nights. He smiled—actually _smiled_ , and not that creepy grin thing either.

 

That being said, he was still no Thor.

 

Loki, the Norse god of mischief, was still a little shit who—and Tony would bet a significant chunk of his fortune on this—was responsible for a whole myriad of things going wrong generally around the Avengers—nothing serious enough to warrant another full-scale intervention, but enough to know that there was something bigger going on than random happenstance.

 

Case in point, Natasha, though she did have it in for Tony—this he was _sure_ of, and no, Pepper, he wasn’t a paranoid, guilty ass—wasn’t usually one to shove the barrel of a gun into his face and threaten him with simultaneous dismemberment of his… er… member—

 

Okay, maybe she _was_ , but that was because she was a motherfucking scary ass woman, which had nothing to do at _all_ with Tony, and it was _so_ not his fault.

 

“If you don’t stop laughing, I will _shoot_ you,” she growled.

 

Yeah, there was that. Tony remembered Pepper telling him he had the self-preservation instincts of a mayfly, and maybe he did because it was _so_ not a good idea to laugh _at_ Natasha, especially when her gun was aimed at your face and her knife at your crotch.

 

“I—I’m _sorry_ ,” he hiccupped and wiped a tear away from his face. “I’m sorry! I’m _trying_!” And then he glanced at his computer screen and a whole other bunch of laughs erupted.

 

_BANG!_

 

Tony’s giggles came to a sudden and jarring stop when he jerked in his seat. Slowly, he tore his eyes away from the gun barrel to see the neat hole the bullet had made in the back of his chair, two inches away from his ear.

 

“I’d scold Natasha for threatening your life, but you really had it coming,” Steve said from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes looking pointedly in disappointment at Tony, which was _so_ not fair because _Natasha had shot at him_. Steve was supposed to be on his side! Tony’s mouth gaped silently while gesturing wildly at Natasha, unable to convey any words. The redhead sheathed her gun and knife then pointed at Tony threateningly.

 

“Get rid of it,” she ordered. “Now!” And then she walked out of the room by Steve who didn’t even glance in her direction.

 

“It wasn’t my fault!” Tony cried after she had left. A blond eyebrow quirked in disbelief, and Tony pouted. “Not fair. You are, by default, required to believe me. Whatever happened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?” Steve sighed and came over.

 

“You’re only ‘innocent until proven guilty’ if you don’t piss Nat off. Otherwise, you’re ‘fucked until you sort that shit out,’” he answered, and even though Tony really _was_ , he beamed brightly, immensely proud at Steve’s newly-acquired ability to curse. He was _such_ a good friend. The corners of Steve’s mouth quirked before he sat down beside the smaller man. “So you gonna tell me why you hacked into Nat’s private files, extracted _those particular ones_ and then posted them all over the tower where everyone can see?” Tony frowned.

 

“I’m telling you: it wasn’t me! I mean I’m not saying I haven’t read them myself—because really, who would have thought Natasha could write such _awesome_ fanfiction about us—but believe me when I tell you I would never deliberately mess with her; I like my balls where they are, thank you,” he said. Steve’s eyes flickered to the screen where ‘Pearls for Pork by Natasha Romanoff (a.k.a. the Black Widow)’ was currently displayed. He flushed lightly because he, too, apparently, had indulged in his curiosity and read that particular story. Tony smirked.

 

“Well then, if not you, who _else_ could have been able to hack into her files _and_ would be stupid enough to expose them?” Tony leveled a _look_ at him.

 

“Really? You have to _ask_?” Steve frowned momentarily then sighed.

 

“I’ll talk to Thor about it,” he eventually conceded before he stood and turned to the door to leave. Tony admired him go briefly—because Steve may not have the kind of affection for Tony that he wanted him to have, but that didn’t mean Tony couldn’t _look_ —before darting from his seat to catch up with him. He wasn’t going to take the fall for Loki, and he was going to make damn sure of that.

 

They found Thor in the middle of the living room with Clint, Bruce and Natasha. The archer’s head was buried in the sofa cushions, and he was laughing hysterically to Thor’s apparent confusion. Bruce was blushing behind a book, and Natasha was staring at Thor appraisingly. Steve, upon catching sight of the god, squeaked and hid his eyes behind his hand. Tony only gaped.

 

“Uh, buddy,” he said. “What are you wearing?” Thor’s eyebrows drew together in confusion then looked down at himself.

 

“A shirt and jeans,” he answered. Tony’s jaw clicked shut. “Am I not?”

 

“’Fraid not, big guy. It seems your little brother’s playing us once again. And I think you should give those panties back to Jane; they’re a wee bit too small on you,” he told the blond. A bright blush settled on Thor’s face and—huh. Interesting reaction. He was about to comment on it, but something else—something familiar—caught his eye by the end table at Clint’s head. “What’s that?” he asked, darting over to pick it up and inspect it. He flipped the cover of the very familiar book open, paused, and then flipped further through the pages. “Team Edward, Clint? Really?” Clint gave a choked cry and then bounded over the sofa to snatch the book away from Tony.

 

“It’s not mine! I, uh, nicked it off one of the junior agents—wanted to practice my snatching skills and—uh, yeah.” There was a significant amount on disbelief in the eyebrow Tony raised.

 

“Junior agents… snatching skills… right,” he said, and then after a beat, “Team _Edward_? _Really_? I didn’t know you were into all that gay sparkly shit.” A guttural battle cry tore from Clint’s throat as he tackled Tony to the ground. He managed to land a punch to Tony’s side before Thor, still in the ladies lingerie, picked him off the genius. Steve pulled Tony up off the floor and further away from Clint, incidentally closer to himself. Tony didn’t comment when Steve failed to remove his hand from Tony’s hip.

 

“Loki’s playing another of his tricks on us. To embarrass us, I suspect, but it’s working, and it should really, really stop. Like now,” he said instead. “Thor, you need to go talk to him—again.”

 

“No way!” Clint cried. Everyone turned to him to see him point at Tony. “Not until we see yours and Bruce’s and Steve’s! It’s only fair!” Natasha shrugged in agreement, but Tony only laughed.

 

“Do you think, after forty-odd years of living in the public eye, I have anything left to be embarrassed about?” he asked incredulously. Steve squeezed his hip discreetly.

 

“You shouldn’t tempt fate,” he warned.

 

“Can I just get my embarrassing thing over with or do I have to wait for Loki to do it?” Bruce asked.

 

“I don’t know how the rules work, buddy, but I’m all for you revealing away,” Tony said. Bruce thought about it for a minute, sighed and then said:

 

“I used to be a Tony Stark fanboy.” There were crickets—fucking _crickets_!—while the team took the time to process that, and then Tony squealed loudly and glomped Bruce around the waist, nuzzling into his neck.

 

“I _knew_ you loved me best, Brucey!” he said in childish delight. Bruce rolled his eyes, but was smiling fondly before turning to the others to explain. He didn’t notice when Steve tugged Tony away. “I grew up the only son of a divorced middle-class guy. I’d go to school, hang out with friends, watch TV, you know, be normal. And for normal people, it wasn’t uncommon to see Tony—rich, famous playboy Tony Stark—on TV—”

 

“You forgot ‘genius,’” Tony interjected, and Bruce rolled his eyes again.

 

“Yes, ‘genius,’” he conceded. “Point is, for a normal teenage boy, you were living _the_ life. Everyone I knew wanted to be you. I was simply no exception.” Tony beamed widely, but refrained from glomping Bruce again, only because Steve’s hand was back on his hip, more securely this time, and then started drawing small circles on the patch of skin just above the waist of his pants. Tony turned to him with a questioning look. It wasn’t as if it was a _bad_ action, per se, just… not normal. Steve spoke before he could ask what’s up.

 

“Well, since Bruce confessed his _embarrassing_ story,” he started, ignoring the indignant “hey” from Tony. “I think I’d like to confess mine as well.” He breathed in deeply.

 

And then pulled Tony into a deep, searching kiss.

 

Tony wasn’t embarrassed to say that a meep left him because _Steve was kissing him_! Steve—his Steve, his best friend, best _straight_ friend who, not long ago, was his worst _straight_ rival—was kissing him with all the passion, the desire and the emotion that Tony had only ever fantasized about. His mouth, warm and encouraging, sucked on Tony’s lower lip in an attempt to gain entry, and, when Tony opened his to moan, to complain, to understand, he slipped his tongue in and silenced the smaller man.

 

And then he pulled away, slowly, although he kept Tony wrapped in his arms.

 

“What?” Tony squeaked. Steve pressed their foreheads together.

 

“I want you,” he breathed, lustful and seductive in a way that was surely, surely illegal for _Captain America_ to do. A low flush spread over Tony’s cheeks. “I want to steal you away to somewhere no one can find us and do wicked, wicked things to you,” he confessed. It didn’t escape Tony that their groins were suddenly pressed _that much closer_ together. “I want to touch and kiss every inch of you. I want to taste you and _take_ you until you’ve forgotten everything but my name.”

 

“S—Steve…”

 

“Yeah,” Steve practically _moaned_. Tony wondered if he—if everyone—noticed that Steve was rocking their hips together, and that that was causing a massive erection in his pants. “Yeah, just like that. I’d—”

 

“What’s going on?” another—eerily familiar voice—demanded. All heads turned to see Steve standing in the doorway, and there was a moment of stunned silence. The Steve that held Tony straightened and gave the other Steve a little finger wave. Tony looked between the two of them, so very, very confused at first. And then he realized that the Steve that had kissed him wasn’t even a Steve at all. He shoved the man away to tear himself out of the imposter’s arms, and then after a horrifying second longer, he turned and ran back into the workshop.

 

He didn’t look back, to save himself from further humiliation—because having a crush on Captain America isn’t embarrassing (it’s pretty goddamn _normal_ ), but being in love with your _straight_ best friend is—but had he done so, he would have seen Steve punching the shit out of a Steve-dressed Loki.

 

……………

 

“Sir,” JARVIS said. “Captain Rogers is attempting entry.”

 

“Keep him out,” Tony ordered gruffly, working on the specs for the building’s arc reactor with a manic intensity that was quite unnecessary.

 

“Sir, you gave him an override,” JARVIS reminded him just before he heard the door slide open.

 

“That’s only for _emergencies_ , Rogers,” Tony said, enough annoyance audible in his tone to cover up humiliation and fear. Steve said nothing, though Tony heard him walking closer, and then something clattered noisily on the workbench beside him. He was able to refrain from looking for all of three seconds before turning to see a pair of handcuffs sitting there unassumingly.

 

But they weren’t just any pair of handcuffs. This kind of handcuffs Tony was _intimately_ familiar with, having had his fair share of experience with it.

 

“There’s more of that in my room,” Steve said quietly, seriously. “And in your room… And the gym… And the rec room… And I’m fairly sure your little panic room down here.” Tony tilted his head up to Steve to see a bright flush covering his face.

 

“So what? Your embarrassing little secret is using handcuffs in bed? Whoop-de-doo. Steve Rogers isn’t the prude we all think he is,” Tony said and then scoffed. “Please. I’ve seen and used much worse than that, though I suppose it _would_ be embarrassing for _you_.” Steve shook his head.

 

“It isn’t just the handcuffs,” he said. His blush, if possible, intensified as he pulled out a couple of other items that he gingerly placed down beside the cuffs: a riding crop, a ball gag, a cock ring, a dildo. Tony blinked in response. “And I think you missed the ‘your room’ part of my sentence,” he added, prompting Tony to jerk his head up to look into Steve’s face.

 

“What?” he asked intelligently. Steve sighed and sat down beside Tony.

 

“I punched Loki after you’d left,” he admitted, and though he looked somewhat contrite, he also looked a bit too damn pleased with himself. “Because he was kissing you and I… I—” He trailed off and paused to think about what to say. “I’m glad I’m your embarrassing little secret, Tony,” he eventually settled on and then leaned forward right into Tony’s personal bubble. “Because you’re mine.”

 

And then they were kissing again, and, for the second time, Tony was at a loss with what to do.

 

Steve took the initiative by pulling Tony into his lap and deepening the kiss. He stroked his tongue over Tony’s lips, and when they parted to let out a meep, he thrust his tongue in and gave the insides of Tony’s mouth broad, sweeping strokes. That, it seemed, was the key to melting Tony into a puddle of goo, and he grasped Steve’s shoulders to keep from melting onto the floor.

 

They kissed, but this time Tony wasn’t unresponsive. He moved his hands to Steve’s hair to tilt his head such that their mouths slotted together more perfectly and gave him as good as he got. He kissed him hungrily, and Steve ravished his mouth, and when they finally pulled apart, Tony was a little bit dazed.

 

“You like me?” he murmured with a small smile. Steve gave him a lopsided grin.

 

“I thought the kiss made that obvious,” he answered and kissed Tony again.

 

“That’s… That’s really fucking awesome,” Tony breathed in awe and darted forward to kiss Steve. Then he pulled away and rested their foreheads together. For a moment, they just relished in the realization that they both could get what they wanted in the other. And then Tony spoke.

 

“So, where do the handcuffs come in?”


End file.
